Twenty-seven

Raven

There’s nothing subtle in the way Nico’s eyes crash over me. This is the look he gets when we have sex, like he can’t get close enough or kiss me hard enough or roll his hips deep enough. And I forgot how handsome he is. Even in his penguin suit. All that brawn fills out his jacket and slacks, his tie crooked, the shadows below his cheekbones flickering in the light. I might have to pull a fire alarm and douse myself with water. But this is Lily’s night, and I’m on the clock.

Releasing his hand is agonizing, walking away excruciating, but his liquid gaze follows, cascading down my back, lapping at my feet. I don’t have to turn around to know he’s watching me. And that he wants to fuck me.

What I don’t know is if he loves me.

Every other woman he’s dated has heard those words drop from his lips. Not me. Never me. Still, he seems ready to talk—my exhibit having the desired effect—and I’m ready to listen. I’m ready to drop to my knees and beg forgiveness, especially if I get to look up at his massive cock and climb the ridges of his abs. (With my teeth.) Nico may be as moral as they come, but his body is built for sin.

A deep breath later, my camera is at my eye. The guests mingle in my viewfinder, and I force Nico to the back of my mind.

Click. Lily’s father with stars in his eyes.

Click. Moonlight casting over Sawyer’s nieces.

Click. Jackson trying to catch a planet.

Sawyer may not have gotten his superhero wedding with spandex costumes and capes, but the girls gave him a galaxy. The room is dark and alluring, a solar system slipping across the ceiling. The harpsichord heightens the mood, the waitstaff taking the theme that much further.

Capturing memories has never been so easy.

A short while later, Sasha taps me on the shoulder. “The ceremony is about to start. I’ll take it from here.”

“I’ll find you after.” I hand her my camera.

As much as I’d like to shoot the nuptials, Lily threatened to remove me from speed dial if I didn’t stand up for her vows. An impressive threat, from her. Not that she had to worry. Since everything with Rose, I’ve realized how important my girls are. My sisters, blood or not. They don’t judge my taste in music or my ink, they tolerate my snarly moods and sarcasm, and they don’t ask me to deal drugs. Since Nico left, they’ve eaten ice cream with me and offered to egg his house. If he’d deserved it, I would have let them. But I’m largely to blame. The girls were honest about that, too. Tough love, they said.

Real love, I thought.

Chairs are put in place for those who need to sit, the rest of the guests ushered toward a small platform and canopy draped in tiny star-shaped lights. I hurry to the back, my velvet skirt trailing behind me, but someone grabs my shoulders and spins me around.

“We might have a client.” Shay is always stunning, but with her hair piled on her head and her skin glittered like mine, she’s cover-model gorgeous.

“If I dug girls, I’d totally kiss you,” I say.

“If I dug girls, I’d press my face into your boobs.”

We grin at each other, then I prompt her. “What’s this about a client?”

She cranes her neck, searching the crowd, then she points to a ten-million-year-old lady. “That woman wants to throw a baby shower.”

That woman’s face is about to slide to the floor. “If it’s for herself, I’ll need a lobotomy to erase the visual.”

“Hilarious, but no. You know Kolton’s assistant, Stella?”

Of course I know Stella. She’s the only woman in this room with as much ink as me. Where my work is black and gray, hers is a swirl of bold colors and fun designs. Her fuchsia hair is hard to miss, too. “Not only do I know Stella, but I’m a member of her fan club. Nico and I were at the office once and walked in as she told Sawyer to stop whining or she’d wax his ass.”

Shay cackles. “She keeps Kolton in line, too, and”—she does an imaginary drum roll—“she’s having a baby.”

“No way.”

“Way.”

“I thought she was single.”

“She is.”

“Scandalous.”

“Not exactly,” Shay says. “She went to the spank bank.”

“Shut up.”

“Swear to God. She’s always wanted kids and got tired of dating Mr. Wrong, so she took matters into her own hands. Her grandmother wants to throw her a shower. Since Stella is into all things ink and sexy, they’ve asked for a burlesque theme.”

Forget member, I’m now her fan club president. “I need to retract my earlier statement. If I dug girls, I’d sex her up.”

“Right? And this means we might actually get paid to do this.” She gestures around the room.

Another piece of my life falling into place, another milestone reached. It doesn’t ease the discomfort lingering from the letter I got this week—Rose’s first communication since everything went down. I’ve reread the single page, trying to assess the sincerity of her apology. It’s unclear if she’s reaching out because she has no one left, or if she truly realizes how badly she’s messed up her life. I doubt I’ll ever trust her again, but I’m not sure I can cut her off, either.

I’ll write her back, once I get my head around what I want to say. However that plays out, my relationship with Nico is hopefully on the mend, I have an exhibit up in a gallery, and our event business has broken ground. This move to Vancouver was the best decision I ever made.

“Does Lily know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I’ll tell her after the ceremony.”

Speaking of which, the lights illuminating the exterior panels dim, and the galaxy shining on the ceiling casts more magic. A violin joins the harp, and we’re ushered toward the back. Kolton and Nico are on the far side of the room, the boys whispering and looking our way.

We’re not much better. Shay’s in front of me, facing them, and she leans back. “I might ask Kolton to marry me.”

Just when this night couldn’t get any better. “Seriously?”

“He’s taking too long.”

This from the girl who stuck with her ex well past their expiration date, waiting on a ring that never came. “Bold move.”

“Yeah. It’s just, with Jackson and everything, I want it to be more permanent. I want him to have that security, and Kolton is…”

She trails off, and I rest my chin on her shoulder, wrapping my arms around her waist. Both our dresses are the softest of velvet—mine midnight, hers electric blue—both dotted with crystals through the layered skirt. “Yeah, Kolton is.”

“So is Nico,” she says on a sigh.

The big guy is watching us, his gaze unwavering as Jackson runs into his legs. Nico claps Kolton’s mini-me on the back, but his focus stays on me.

“Yeah. Nico is, too,” I agree, my tone less dreamy. My exhibit clearly affected him, but we’re nowhere near out of the woods.

Shay wraps her arms over mine, squeezing us closer. “You’ll figure things out.”

The alternative is highly unpleasant, but I don’t let my mind go there. This night is too special to ruin with what-ifs.

Sawyer’s mother fusses with her granddaughters, organizing the twins in front of Shay. Sawyer’s father and brother join him on their side. The rhythm of the violin changes, the crowd hushes, and the twins giggle as they walk down the aisle, baskets in hand. Their white petals flutter on the floor, my heart fluttering with them. Shay and Kolton follow, the couple so freaking in love, you’d think it was their wedding.

I’m next.

Nico and me.

The candlelight is soft. Each flicker licks his dark skin, and when I reach him, he pauses so long, whispers float our way. Then he presses his luscious lips to my jaw. This is our first kiss in two months. Sixty-two days. My lips are nowhere near his, but his touch is like the first snowfall and running through puddles and falling into leaves.

I grip his arm to stay upright.

He guides me forward, our elbows hooked, his hand folded over mine. I’ve never been so aware of his body—the brush of his thigh, the press of his hip. Thankfully we don’t talk. I’m not sure what I’d say. So many words have been hoarded I doubt I’d make much sense. When we reach the canopy, I move to pull away, but he tugs me close, and my heart jostles. His gaze is fierce, like he wants to devour me. Like we’re not at our friends’ wedding in front of two hundred guests.

His blue eyes are liquid, shining like sun-drenched water. He doesn’t ravage me, though. He leans down and whispers, “I’m so far gone in love with you.”

I die. Melt. Disappear into a puddle of joy.

Then he lets me go. He walks to his side of the aisle, and I rock on my feet, unsteady. Heat flares up my neck. If I were at home, I’d blare the Clash and rock out like I was fourteen being noticed by my first crush. But I’m not at home. And I’m not fourteen.

Somehow I make it to Shay’s side. She digs her fingers into my wrist. “What the hell was that?”

I try to listen to her whisper, but my focus is locked on Nico. Even from here, I can tell his chest rises as fast as mine. “He loves me,” I manage.

She gives a little jump. “You guys are gonna have the hottest babies.”

I pinch her arm to shut her up, but now I’m picturing my Sexy Beast, shirtless, our kid—a kid I’ve never cared to envision—pressed to his chest, and I’m a puddle again.

The music shifts, a sign that Sawyer is making his way down the aisle, his mother on his arm, but Nico hasn’t looked away. I can’t look away, either. My ribs curl inward, struggling to contain my swelling heart. I love you, I mouth. His large hand floats up to cover his breastbone, and he taps his fingers twice. His heartbeat? Mine?

He might as well be tapping my inner thigh.

Flushed and flustered, I tear my gaze away. Sawyer is halfway down the aisle, handsome in his purple tux, the color as wild as we’d let him get. It’s fun and sexy and suits the man he is, the husband he will become. At the front, his mother whispers in his ear and his shoulders relax.

Then Lily appears.

Shay clutches my hand, and I squeeze back. Our friend is an earthly angel. Her white-blond hair spills down her back in loose waves, pink and purple flowers woven in the strands. Her dress is strapless like ours, but silk instead of satin, the white top blooming into pink and lilac toward the floor. People murmur, and Sawyer’s breath hisses out, his brown eyes ablaze. He shifts on his feet, as though not running to her is killing him. His restraint doesn’t last long.

As soon as Lily’s father leaves her at the altar, Sawyer hauls her into his arms and dips her back, kissing her with abandon. His mother groans, her face full of mirth, and the guests laugh, everyone enjoying the spontaneous show of affection. I check to make sure Sasha captures it. She, of course, hasn’t missed a beat, but my heart has. It trips over itself for Lily and this night and the sting of pleasure lingering from Nico’s words. The big guy beams, shaking his head at his friend, his attention sliding back to me. Heat. An inferno of heat. And desire, and that thing I’ve been terrified to wish for: love love, so much love.

The ceremony passes with little incident, vows spoken, rings exchanged. Sawyer only cuts off the priest once to kiss Lily again, and red apples bloom on her cheeks. Once, near the end, she fidgets, her trademark anxiety making an appearance. But Sawyer clasps her hands and stills her fingers with his lips. Again, my heart skips. Things don’t finish as planned, though. Sawyer must have gotten to someone who wasn’t able to resist his charms. He probably promised them a year of Moondog clothing. Without warning the dim lights go black, flickering candles all that are left.

And Pitbull blares from the speakers.

Horns blast as “I Know You Want Me” bounces off the ceiling, neon lights we never okayed lighting up the space. Sawyer leaves Lily, her mouth open in shock and horror, and he joins his nieces for a dance the twins must have choreographed. I doubt he planned to sway his hips quite like that or shake his shoulders.

“That fucker,” Shay growls, her eyes as wide as mine.

I’m mute, his willingness to embarrass himself rendering me speechless. But I laugh. Hard. Along with every person in the room. It starts as a nervous burst of air until my stomach rolls with humor, my abs sore by the time his routine ends. Lily’s smile could light the solar system. She runs into his arms and he spins her around, the dance music fading into something soft and lyrical. The type of music Lily loves. They dance or maybe float. I don’t recognize the song, but it talks of living off love and feeding off love and breathing and drinking and sinking in love.

“‘Beauty’ by the Shivers,” Shay whispers in my ear, knowing this music isn’t my thing. The way she bites her lip and dabs her eyes, I’d say she’s forgiven Sawyer for hijacking our event.

Afterward the bar opens and the guests schmooze as Lily and Sawyer escape for some privacy. I wanted to shoot posed photos of them after the ceremony, but Sawyer refused. He asked me to capture them in the moment, enjoying their night. The casual cocktails and passed hors d’oeuvres add to the fun atmosphere, neither of them wanting a sit-down dinner.

The second we break ranks, Nico strides my way, those thick thighs of his propelling him forward. “I can’t take my eyes off you.”

“Even during that dance number?”

His shoulders shake with laughter. “Okay, maybe I looked away for a bit. But”—he steps so close his chest brushes mine—“I’m feeling pretty desperate for that dance.” He flexes his fingers as though he needs to get his hands on me.

That makes two of us. “Agreed, but I’m the hired help.”

He grabs my hand and traces slow circles on my palm. “Do your work. Just know I’m thinking about you.”

My limbs loosen, all sensation gathering in my belly, and lower. I pull away. Another second and my legs will liquefy.

I feel his attention on me as I go, and the weight of his stare for the next few hours. Every time I glance up, those blue stunners are fastened on me, but I do my work. The other thing I love. I snap enough shots to fill a library, ensuring there will be winners in the bunch. When I edit them, I’ll get to relive Lily jamming a cupcake in Sawyer’s mouth, Jackson climbing on Nico’s back, and the contentment on Shay’s face as she dances with her man. As things wind down, Sasha offers to finish up so I can deal with the tower of tattooed muscle circling me like I’m his prey.

He’s on me the second I pass off my camera, his arm curling around my waist. “The last hour has been excruciating.”

The band plays something sweet and slow, our hips finding an easy rhythm. “But we’re here now.”

“We are.”

I sink into his arms, so big and strong and reassuring around my back. “I’m sorry.”

The words feel too small. Inadequate. Like a swimmer’s first stroke across the Pacific.

He tugs me even closer. “So am I. I should have talked out what I was feeling instead of closing down. Cutting you off was like losing a limb.”

“I should have listened to you about Rose. Trusted your instincts.”

We move and talk—words timed to music, confessions binding us. He runs his nose through my hair. “You were right, warning me not to be so rigid, not to judge every action so severely. It just felt like the only way to keep treading water. I’ve let you down.”

“You haven’t. You’re the best man I know.”

He sighs, soft breath brushing my ear. “But I should never have shut you out. I still hadn’t really dealt with my guilt over that stuff with Alessi. Almost breaking the law. What you asked brought it all back, and I was too tough on myself. Too tough on you. And there’s so much I want.”

“Like what?” All I want is to listen to him, let his deep voice flow through me.

“Everything. I want to wake up with you every day. I want to cook you dinner. I want to picnic with you at the beach and dance like this under the stars and watch you get your next tattoo and have you design mine.” Hips swaying, hearts pounding. “I want it all.”

And all and all and all. “Your friends were right,” I whisper. “You’re all marshmallow.”

He doesn’t laugh. “Makes me easy to burn.”

I flinch as if his words do singe. The pain I caused him sank deep, cutting through his muscle and tough exterior. My big, sensitive guy. “I should have listened to you about Rose. I just…I thought she was my one chance at family. But I had it all along. Lily and Shay are my support. Even if I mess up, they’re here for me. And you”—I release one hand to rest my palm on his cheek—“you’re all I need. More than I need. But I’m greedy and want all of you.”

Gruff, he says, “I’m yours. And we can’t ever fight like this again. Sure, we’ll disagree and things will happen, but we can’t split up. It’s too hard.” He kisses my hand and gathers me tight.

Even though I’m tucked into his chest, I feel exposed. As though my heart is made of tracing paper, and he sees into my soul. He’s right. We can’t do this again, and I want us to be together. But I’ve also learned a lot about myself these past weeks. “I agree, but…”

His feet pause. He pulls back to study me. “That doesn’t sound good.”

God, that look of fear in his eyes. “I would do it again.”

“Do what?”

“I may have misplaced my trust in Rose, but if Shay or Lily were in trouble and I thought I could do something to help them, even if it meant bending the law, I’d try. I’d ask you to help me.” The thing that’s rung true since this disaster started is that I’ll always fight for those I love. Right or wrong, I’ll move heaven and earth to see them well.

Nico sways again, his steps sure as we dance. “If you ask, I’ll probably say no. But I won’t get mad. Not if the asking comes from the heart.”

“Okay,” I say, at peace for the first time since Aspen, nothing but honesty between us. “And you need to learn to give yourself a break. You can’t be everything for everyone.”

He fans his hand across my back and repeats my “Okay.”

The song bleeds into another, Nico’s warmth bleeding into my veins. I can’t imagine dancing with anyone else. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why did it take you so long to tell me how you feel? I know how the guys joke, how you’re usually pretty quick to fall. What was different about us?”

Left. Right. Back. Forth. He leads; I follow. “I wanted to wait until there was less stress in our lives, and in the past the saying was always too easy. It never burned me up. The words never lodged in my throat like they did with you. I wanted us to be different. Special. Waiting meant more.”

I slip my hands under the bottom of his jacket, his muscles shifting below my touch. “I love you.” It’s the first time I’ve whispered this to anyone, and he’s right—the words do burn.

He stops dancing. The music plays, but he holds me still. “I love you, Raven, but saying it isn’t enough. I plan to show you how much you mean to me.”

I look up at his ocean eyes, no longer worried I’ll drown. “If your show-and-tell involves more touching and less clothing in the privacy of your place, count me in.”

I drop my hand to the curve of his ass, and a growl rumbles from his chest. The kiss that follows is bigger than the galaxy above us and the words we spoke. It’s a promise wrapped in low groans and tangled tongues that shivers across my skin. We’re not the same, Nico and me. We won’t always agree, and we might test each other’s limits, but if he kisses me like this and opens his heart, I’ll be his and his and his. And he’ll always be mine.